It's Not Easy Being Green
by mugglemama
Summary: Ron struggles to maintain respect of his fellow Aurors, Hermione doesn't make it easy for him. Written for Kinky Kristmas 2009.


**A/N:** I wrote this fic as a surprise gift for a dear friend at the Kinky Kristmas Exchange at Daily Deviant on Insane Journal. She is one of the very few canon ship supporters on that site and I needed to make certain her kinks/prompts were claimed. She gave the prompt "green" and the requested kinks were dom!Ron, spanking and spunk. This is my effort to fulfill her Kinky Kristmas wish. I hope it's not too much for this audience – things at Daily Deviant are meant to be "intense" and yes, a bit deviant. I think the fact it was supposed to be kinky can be inferred by the name of the exchange. ;)

As always, I appreciate your comments!

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Ron Weasley liked to be warm. He liked the comforting coziness of a Sunday lie-in under sleep-softened covers, he craved the comfort of a hot home-cooked meal, loved the feel of Hermione's warm mouth moving up and down his cock, her heated tongue swirling around his bollocks, the snug wet warmth of being buried deep in her hot...

_Don't go there,_ Ron admonished himself. _Locker room shower's not the place to think about your wife's tight fanny_. He willed himself to concentrate on the hot spray of water as it washed away the grime and filth and pain of another successful mission.

It had been almost a month since he had last led his team out in the field, yet they proved themselves more than capable of taking down their target. He missed working with Harry everyday, but the challenges and excitement of leading his own squad made up for it. They hadn't had cause to run a raid since the week before took off for his wedding and it felt good to get back in action. He took the opportunity to begin mentally drafting his mission report, reviewing the details as he scrubbed his long lean body.

Not wanting to face his wife's wrath should he come home with an unhealed injury, he took stock of the small scratches and bruises along his arms and torso. _Nothing I can't handle, no need to visit the Healer_. As he rubbed his hand lazily through the wiry hairs beneath his naval, he noticed a red mark on his abdomen, halfway between his hipbone and his cock. _Hermione_. Unbidden, his mind traveled back to his gorgeous wife crawling under the covers to wake him up that morning, leaving the inevitable love bite. _Ha! And people think I'm the one with the oral fixation. Can't remember the last time I didn't have a bite mark on me somewhere._ Ron looked down at his hardening cock and decided he had better get out of the shower before his arousal had the chance to grow any further.

As soon as he turned the water off, Ron heard the men of his squad, laughing and joking around.

"–So I said, 'you'll just have to invite them to join us'..." Ron could hear the loud voice of Archie Quinn spinning a tale that echoed through the showers. Quinn was a good Auror, potential to be great even, but he was an arsehole. A first-class womanizing arse; he makes Seamus Finnigan seem like a vicar – and that's no easy feat. Hermione hated the man and it was all Ron could do to prevent her from hexing him the one time he visited their flat. As it was, she insisted on casting a sanitizing charm on everything he touched and swore she would do permanent damage to Ron's manhood if Quinn ever darkened their door again.

"–And they did!" Quinn concluded to shouts and cheers of the rest of the squad. "Blimey, a foursome," Ron heard their new recruit Owen Detwiller respond with awe, "I can't even pull one bird, and he's gettin' three." This comment brought even louder laughter and raunchy commentary.

Ron reached his locker and threw his damp used towels in the nearby hamper before yanking on some clean pants. "Sounds like you had quite the week-end there, Quinn," Ron said as he pulled up his trousers.

"Indeed I did, Weasley. I'm hoping this week-end will be even better." He leaned around Ron and shouted, "Oi, Anderson! You see that delicious piece of fresh meat that just transferred to our floor?"

Anderson looked confused, "Uh, sorry... who?"

_Hmmm... Only new bird on our floor is– No! No fucking way!_

"You know, the posh one – great tits, perfect arse..."

_You fucking wanker!_

Recognition dawned on Anderson's face. He glanced warily at Ron before mumbling to the floor, "Nah mate, didn't notice."

"Used to be in Magical Creatures..." Quinn continued, ignoring Anderson's discomfort and Ron's glare.

"Hey," Owen whispered to no one in particular, "is he talking about Captain Weasley's wife? She just transferred from Care and Regulation of Magical Creatures."

Quinn spun around to face poor Owen and let out a barking laugh. "His wife? Nope, don't think so. Nameplate says Granger – not Weasley," he said with a sneer.

_Friggin_ _arse, he knows damn well we just got married._

"Near as I can tell, she's fair game."

By now Ron was almost completely dressed and was trying to button up his shirt, a task made all the more difficult by the fact he'd rather have his hands wrapped around Quinn's throat.

Anderson stepped forward at this point. "Shut it, Quinn. You're lucky Weasley hasn't hexed you." Ron continuing staring into his locker, he was doing his best to ignore them all.

"Yeah," Owen added, "Look how red he's turning."

"Yeh sure it's not green? Maybe he's been attacked by the green-eyed monster?"

"Harry Potter?" Owen asked incredulously.

Someone smacked the back of the rookie's head, "No, you dolt – 'green-eyed monster' means jealousy."

"Who'd he be jealous of?"

"Why the lovely Miss Granger, of course. Imagine she must bring home quite a bit more galleons as an Undersecretary than 'ol Cap'n Weasley here," Quinn said, jutting his thumb at Ron.

Realisation suddenly hit: it was Quinn who was jealous – he'd wanted the squad leader promotion that Ron had been given. He could hear Hermione's voice in his head 'He's not worth it... Don't give him the satisfaction...' _Doubt she'd be saying that if she heard what the tosser was saying about her_.

Ron was pulled from his thoughts when Quinn continued. "Can't really blame her for not takin his name... Posh bird like her, gonna need someone with summat in Gringotts... Gotta let 'em think she's still available, make it easier to find something better. From what I hear, poor Weasley still has to work two jobs."

"That's enough," Ron said gruffly as he slammed his locker shut and grabbed his robes, not bothering to put them on. "Let's go, we have reports to file and a briefing to give." He couldn't resist giving Quinn's shoulder a bump as he led them out of the locker room toward the lifts. _Shows what you know... my share of the Wheezes is worth more than you'll make your whole life, you stupid fuck_.

Ron and his team entered the lift and waited for the interoffice memos to fly in overhead so they could go back to the Auror Department. Suddenly a memo began poking Ron in the ear. "I think it's for you, Captain," Owen pointed out.

"Yeah, thanks Detwiller. Kinda already worked that out." Ron snatched the annoying correspondence and ripped it open. As soon as he did, it began speaking, "Ronald Bilius Weasley!" _Oh fuck, that's Hermione's voice!_

"Bilius?" someone sniggered

"Since you have seen fit to disregard every memo I have sent you today, I have prepared one that you will not be able to ignore," Hermione's voice screeched from her interoffice Howler. "As you know, I am extremely busy preparing for my first case. I will not be cooking this evening; you'll need to make alternate arrangements. I also need you to stop at the Apothecary. The order should be waiting for you; it's under my name, Hermione Granger. DO NOT forget, Ron." She ended her note with a curt, "Hermione" before the letter folded itself back up and poking his head again. Ron hastily stuffed it into his pocket. _What the hell has her knickers in such a twist? I didn't get any friggin memos. _

Quinn had started laughing as soon as Hermione's voice started; by the end of her message he was almost doubled over and couldn't resist the urge to further humiliate Ron. "A busy lady like her prolly has yeh make an appointment for a shag, eh Weasley?"

By now everyone in the lift was sniggering over Ron's predicament. He clenched his hands and prayed for the lift to speed up. Each moment trapped in the small space increased his anger, at both Quinn and Hermione. _How the fuck can I lead these men if they don't respect me? Thanks a lot Hermione. What the bloody hell is she playing at?_

Thankfully the lift stopped before Ron could throttle Quinn. His anger had grown to the point that he was certain his palms would begin bleeding soon as he had his fists grasped so tight. As soon as the doors opened, Ron charged into the MLE offices, barking orders on his way to confront Hermione. "Anderson, take everyone to the conference room and begin the debriefing. I want all drafts of the incident reports on my desk before anyone can leave tonight."

"Yes, Sir!"

Ron approached Hermione's office and made to rush past her assistant, Gertrude Ruckle, who jumped out of her seat and threw herself in his path. She did so with amazing agility for someone her age; Ron could have sworn she was old enough to have been Dumbledore's nanny. She was new to the department, and to working with Hermione, having just transferred from the Unspeakables. Her lack of exposure to the world outside of the Ministry's ninth level meant that she didn't know a lot of Ministry gossip, though she certainly knew who Harry Potter was. Ron almost pissed himself laughing when Hermione told him about her first day on the job and Gertrude's excitement over the fact that Hermione actually knew _the_ Harry Potter.

"Where to you think you are going?" Gertrude's shoved a wrinkled hand onto Ron's chest to prevent his progress.

"I need to see Hermione." Ron tried to step around her but she held her ground.

"I'm sorry do you have an appointment? _Miss Granger_ is a very busy woman and cannot be bothered..."

As Ron's luck would have it, Quinn was still lurking about and overheard the exchange. At the sound of his familiar barking laugh, Ron spun around and shouted, "Conference Room! NOW!" and pointed down the corridor angrily. Quinn gave Ron a mock salute and left.

At the commotion, Hermione's office door flew open. "Ms. Ruckle, what is going on out– Ron... what are you doing?" She placed her hands on her hips and began tapping her foot in that infuriating and highly arousing way of hers.

"I'm trying to see you," he responded through gritted teeth, willing himself to not stare at her breasts as she crossed her arms over her chest. The confrontation with Hermione's gatekeeper had done nothing to defuse his temper; in fact it had increased tenfold. His mood combined with his growing arousal could prove to have dangerous consequences.

"Where have you been all day?" she asked, her tone abrupt and sharp.

"Don't get all shirty with me Hermione, I'm the one who should be angry with you."

"Oh please," she huffed as she spun on her heel and stormed back into her office. Ron followed closely, slamming the door behind him. Throwing his robes violently into her guest chair, he explained, "I've been out on a mission all day–"

"A mission?" she asked softly, turning to face him. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah, 'm fine. I told you we were considering a raid on–"

"Why didn't you tell me you went?" she shouted suddenly, lunging forward to smack him about his arms and chest repeatedly. "You know you're always supposed to tell me when you leave for a mission."

"Geroff me!" Ron stepped back a safe distance from his wife. "I sent you a note – right before we left."

"I didn't get any note."

"Check with Merlin's Granny out there..." Ron yanked the door open and stuck his head out. "Oi! Gertie–"

"_Ron_," Hermione admonished. Stepping around him, she approached Gertrude with a smile, "I'm so sorry Ms Ruckle. I was wondering if I've received any correspondence that you haven't given to me yet."

"I gave you that important one... you know from Mr Potter. If you don't mind me saying so Miss, I think the two of you would make a lovely–"

"Un-fucking-believable!" Ron interjected, throwing his hands up in surrender.

"Ronald!"

"Look Gert," Ron continued, blatantly ignoring Hermione, "Do you have anything for Hermione from me?"

Gertrude stared at him blankly.

"I'm Ron Weasley."

Still no recognition.

"Captain Ron Weasley, Auror," he tried.

Nothing.

"I'm her bleedin' husband!"

That statement finally elicited a response. Gertrude's eyes grew wide and she began to stammer as she looked back and forth between Ron and Hermione, "I-I... I didn't realise... I'm so s-sorry..." She started digging through the pile of papers on her desk.

"It's fine, Gertrude," Hermione said, trying to put her at ease. "I thought I told you I was expecting a response from Mr Weasley?"

"Yes Miss, er... I mean Ma'am. He never did respond to any of your memos." She found Ron's note and handed it to Hermione, "This came much earlier."

Hermione let out an exasperated sigh. "In the future Ms Ruckle, please make certain I receive any and all correspondence from Mr Weasley – Ron – _immediately_."

"Yes, of course."

Hermione walked back into her office with Ron right behind. "Well?" he asked as he closed the door and cast an Imperturbable Charm.

"Well what?"

"Aren't you going to apologise? You absolutely humiliated me in front of my entire squad!"

"Ron, calm down. You're exaggerating," she turned to attend to the papers on her desk.

"Don't turn your back on me Hermione," he said, grabbing her wrist and spinning her around.

Hermione struggled to pull free, "Ron, you're being ridicu–"

He moved her arm behind her back and yanked her closer. "I am NOT being ridiculous, Hermione," he said gruffly. "Your little message went off in the lift – in front of my entire squad. I'm a laughing-stock to my own men now, thanks to you."

Hermione stared up at him, her hand rising to rest on his chest. He loosened his hold on her slightly, still keeping her clutched tightly to him but being careful not to hurt her. Ron easily could have captured her upturned mouth and plundered it, forgetting his anger and getting lost in her. He could feel his desire for her growing and almost gave in when she pressed herself firmer against him. She licked her lips and whispered, "I didn't know, I didn't realise..."

He released her suddenly, took a step back and resumed shouting, "Didn't know? Didn't realise? What the fuck did you think would happen when you sent me a bloody Howler?"

"There's no need for profanity," Hermione said haughtily. "You want an apology – fine. I'm sorry." She crossed her arms and huffed, "Satisfied?"

"HA! You are mental! You make a mistake, you embarrass me and now you're the one giving me attitude. That's rich, Hermione!"

"Ron–"

"Did it ever occur to you to leave your precious office for just a moment and come look for me? Or ask Harry? No! Automatically you found fault with me, assumed I was ignoring you."

"I didn't know you were on a mission," Hermione said defensively.

"Course not – your guardian only forwards _Harry's_ messages," Ron replied contemptuously. "She didn't even know you were married Hermione!"

"You can't let one slightly addled–"

"And it's not just her! Just before your lovely little note arrived, Quinn was giving me shit about you not taking my name, saying how it was so you could let blokes think you're still available, make it easier to find someone better."

"Archie Quinn is an idiot who should be castrated as a favour to womankind." She crossed her arms and leaned back against the edge of her desk.

Ron tried not to let his amusement show at her suggestion, luckily she didn't noticed the involuntary twitch of the corners of his mouth.

"I'm trying to earn the respect of my men and there you are sending me Howlers and giving me orders."

"Ron, I–"

"It's just so bloody frustrating, Hermione. You're my wife dammit!" He took a step closer until he was right in front of her.

"I know Ron – I was at the ceremony, remember?"

"Well, I want everyone else to know." He reached forward and grabbed the back of her neck, pulling her roughly toward him. "You're mine," he growled before bringing her mouth to his for a bruising kiss, pressing his tongue instantly into her mouth and claiming her. Pulling back slightly, he whispered, "Mine," then pulled her bottom lip between his teeth and nibbled gently before kissing her again. Hermione whimpered as she threaded her hands into his hair and held him fast against her.

Eventually his lips moved on from hers and blazed a path down her neck while his hands began frantically trying to undo her buttons without ripping her blouse.

"Door?" she asked weakly.

"Sealed," he murmured into her cleavage.

"Good," she moaned as she pushed him to standing and began unfastening his shirt, rubbing her hands over his exposed flesh. Once she had his shirt completely off, she noticed the few cuts and bruises from his mission that he had failed to heal.

"Oh Ron," she whispered. She placed gentle kisses on each new mark she could see, causing Ron to lean his head back and groan at her tender ministrations. She reached his pink nipple and bit down, rolling it between her teeth.

"Fuckin' hell! You and your biting – gonna scar me for life."

She just laughed, "You know you love it." She flicked her tongue over his distended nipple before kissing her way across his freckled chest.

"I know I love you," he replied.

"Mmmm, love you too..." She moaned as she gave his other nipple the same treatment as its twin.

Ron resumed his task of removing her blouse, tearing it down her arms and throwing it aside. His large hands immediately reached up and began kneading her breasts. "Mmm, white lace..."

As his thumbs circled her nipples, Hermione reached down with shaky hands and opened his belt and the top button of his trousers. Before she could get his zipper all the way down, Ron batted her hands away and reached around her for the clasp of her bra.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"Nothing... I just have to..." He didn't finish what he was saying because once he got her bra off, his mouth was busy with her breasts.

"Mmmm, Ron." She quickly became lost as he used his skilled mouth and hands to manipulate her breasts until she was on the brink of madness.

"Matching knickers?" Ron mumbled as he licked a trail up her chest to her neck, which he bit gently.

"Hmmm? What?"

"You wearing the matching lace knickers?" he clarified before flicking his tongue over the spot he had just bitten.

"Oh yeah, the knickers... of course..."

"Wicked, I love those." Ron removed his lips from her body and stood back. "I wanna see, turn around." He made a twirling motion with his hand.

"Wh-what?"

"I said turn around." He put has hands on her bare waist and turned her to face her desk. He reached out with one hand and swept the papers clear. "Bend over," he commanded.

When she didn't immediately comply, obviously too in shock over what he had done to her organised desk, he took her hands and placed them flat on the desk. Leaning his chest into her back, he forced her slowly forward.

"Don't make me tell you twice Hermione," he said into her ear his voice husky and full of authority.

He ran his hands over her arse, rubbing gently before inching her skirt up until it was bunched at her waist. He groaned loudly at the sight of the scrap of white lace covering her arse. "Quinn was right about one thing," he said, leaning forward and pressing his erection against her. "Your arse _is_ perfect," he whispered before he kissed her shoulder then sucked on her ear lobe. She turned her head and kissed him hungrily.

"Ron, please," she said, pushing back into him.

He slid along the back of her body, touching every inch, until he was kneeling behind her. His hands slipped under the fabric and he slowly removed her knickers, leaving goose bumps in his wake as his hands ghosted over her flesh. Once they were off, Ron brought them to his face, the scent and damp evidence of her arousal overpowering him. He took a deep sniff and shoved them in his front trouser pocket.

Hermione looked over her shoulder at his position on the floor. "Are you just going to admire it, or do you plan on doing something?"

"Mind you manners, _Mrs Weasley_," he said, standing. "This is for your cheek," he joked before giving her a smack on her bare arse.

Hermione surprised him by falling forward onto her elbows and moaning loudly at the contact.

_This is new_, he thought. _She does like it a little rough sometimes, I wonder..._

"And this is for that Howler..." He spanked her arse again.

"Ooooohhhhh," she moaned.

"And for thinking the worst of me..." One, two smacks. Hermione stretched forward and grabbed the edge of her desk, arching her backside higher in the air.

"And for humiliating me..." Three more.

"Oh God, Ron... please," she whimpered as she raised herself on her tiptoes, spreading her legs open further, exposing her damp pussy to him. Groaning, he quickly unzipped his trousers the rest of the way and dropped them and his pants to the floor. Taking himself in hand, he stepped up behind her and slapped his cock up between her lags and against her throbbing clit.

"This what you want Hermione? You want this inside you?"

"Yes! Please!"

"You want me buried deep in you, making you come?"

"Stop fucking teasing me!" she shouted.

"All you had to do was ask," he said slamming forward.

"Ron!" she cried once his large cock was sheathed inside her.

"Fuuuuuck, Hermione." He gripped her hips tightly and pulled out slowly, only to slam forward quickly. He repeated this rhythm over and over. Slow and gentle then hard and fast... slow and gentle, then hard and fast.

"Uuuuunnnnhhhh," she moaned

"Er-my-nee... You... you feel so... so... fuuuuckkknnngghhh gooood." He slowed his pace considerably, watching as his dick disappeared inside her, then came back out, covered in her juices.

"Shit... look at your greedy cunt... takin' it all..."

"More," she begged. "Harder."

"Fuck yeah, I'll... I'll give it to yeh harder..." He smacked her arse one last time and began pounding into her with such force that the desk started to move. Ron knew he was bruising Hermione as his hips slammed into her arse, forcing her into contact with the desk, but he couldn't be arsed to care.

"Oh God... so close..." Knowing what his wife needed, Ron released his grip on her hips and reached around with one hand and found her clit. Rubbing it roughly, he cried, "That's it... come on Hermione... come on!"

She arched her back and groaned his name as her body shuddered and squeezed his cock repeatedly. Spent from her climax, Hermione slumped forward on the desk.

"Stay with me love, almost there." Hermione nodded her head weakly and braced herself by clinging to the edge of the desk again. Ron knew she was really sensitive after a strong orgasm like she just had and he normally would have slowed his assault to allow her to recover, but he was too far gone and too close to release to not let it go. He looked down and saw her arse, blazing red from the pounding her was given her, the imprint of his large hand still visible on her flesh. He growled out her name and came harder than he had in long time. As he was ejaculating, he did something he had never done before; he pulled out and, wrapping his hand around his cock, he wanked the last of his spunk onto Hermione – covering the redness his hand had made on her arse and further marking her as his own.

He leaned forward and covered her body with his own, burying his face in her hair and whispering words of love. Once their bodies recovered and their breathing slowed, Hermione laughed softly, "We better clean up before we get stuck like this."

Ron peeled himself off of her and found his wand. After they tidied each other up and re-dressed, with soft kisses and caressing impeding their progress, Hermione said quietly, "I didn't know the name thing bothered you so much."

"I didn't either," he admitted sheepishly.

"I've been planning on changing it, they just put my old nameplate up and things have been so crazy since we got back from our wedding and honeymoon, and all the thank you notes, and the Apothecary order is my birth control potion – that's been a standing order for _years_ and I haven't been able to get in to change it. And it certainly never dawned on me that Gertrude didn't know we were married, I mean we're always in the _Prophet,_ and _Witch Weekly_ did that spread on the our wedding and–"

He cut off her rambling with a finger pressed to her lips. "Shhh Hermione, it's okay."

She placed a hand gently on his face and said, "You know Quinn's wrong Ron; there is no one better for me than you."

He placed his hand over hers and brought it to his mouth. Kissing her palm, he murmured, "I know _you_ think that – but we've already established you're mental."

"You're impossible," she laughed.

"Must be why we're perfect for each other."

"Perfectly barking..."

"No doubt." He leaned down and gave her a tender, lingering kiss. "I hate to do this, but I really need to get back, they can't conclude the briefing or file the incident reports without me..."

"I know," she sighed. "Go on."

With a longing look back at Hermione, Ron lifted the charm on the door and strode into the hall. With a playful wink at Gertrude, he made his way across the floor to the glass enclosed Auror Conference Room.

"Sorry for the delay... where are we?"

A few moments after Ron arrived, a soft knock was heard at the glass door. Ron was startled to see who came into the room.

"Hermione?"

"So sorry to interrupt, I know how busy you are... it's just," she walked over to where Ron stood in front of the group, "you have something of mine."

"I do?"

"Mm-hmm." She reached her left hand into his front pocket and retrieved her knickers. Dangling them in front of him, she said, "I know how much you prefer me out of these, but it's awful chilly in my office without them."

Hermione ran a hand slowly down Ron's chest and whispered, just loud enough for everyone to hear in the silent room, "I'll pick up some take-away; don't be late."

Ron could only nod in agreement as he stood gobsmacked by Hermione's behavior. She slid her knickers into her pocket and as she turned to head out the door, she noticed Owen Detwiller sitting in the front row, his mouth hanging open.

She approached him and held out her right hand in greeting, "You must be the new recruit, I don't believe we've met..."

"Er, uh no... Hello, I'm uh... O-Owen Detwiller." He took her proffered in his unsteady one and shook it warily.

"Nice to meet you Owen. I'm Hermione. Hermione Weasley." She released his hand and smiled reassuringly. "You're very lucky to be assigned to this squad, Captain Weasley is the best... of course I am a bit biased." With a nod to the rest of the room, and smile over her shoulder for Ron, she left the room.

Ron watched appreciatively as she made her way back to her office. He was amazed at the lengths should would go through, just to help his position with his men. _Damn I love that woman!_

He returned his attention to his squad and caught Quinn's eye. He couldn't resist.

"You all right there Arch? You're looking a bit green."

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Endnotes: If you enjoy canon pairings, especially Ron and Hermione, check out my fic journal on LiveJournal and the Art/Fic Exchange I co-moderate there: hp_canon_fest – more info can be found on my profile page here on fanfiction .net. Thanks for reading! ~mugglemama


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